


Out of Step

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 23:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8264066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: Lena has trouble with time after the accelerator. People have always kept her grounded.





	

Back when she first got the accelerator, she lost time often. 

It was terrible, probably one of the worst moments in Lena’s life. After so much time in the slipstream, she found it impossible to keep track of time, hours and minutes almost meaningless to her. She’d forget to eat meals, she’d lose hours as they tried to get the accelerator to match the timestream perfectly, she’d forget to sleep until she saw how dark it got outside. Those days she kept almost three watches on her at all times, trying to remind herself of how time flowed outside the slipstream. It’d taken her almost a year to get down to only wearing one watch on her wrist.

After a while, as Winston improved the accelerator, she’d gotten more comfortable sliding between the slipstream and the present. It’d become less confusing for her to move from one to the other. Setting timers for meals and for sleep became something she only had to do a few times a year rather than once a day. The hum of the accelerator became less foreign and more a comforting presence. It reminded her she was anchored. When Overwatch disbanded, she often listened to it whirl as she tried to sleep. It was her way of reminding herself that there were some constants in the world, even with all the chaos. No matter where the future lead, time would keep flowing. No explosion, or dead mentors could change that. 

Of course, this didn’t mean she never had bad days, where time seemed to sweep her up and spit her out disoriented. Sometimes it was out of the blue, no cause at all, just the sensation of being on the wrong foot driving her mad. Other times it was triggered by something that threw her world into disarray, a blending of the past and present that made it hard to remember what time she stood in now.

Today was one of the latter days. It was absolutely ridiculous, she thought, how the face of Jack Morrison under that visor threw her for such a loop. She’d suspecting it was him for an age, after all. Seeing his face was just confirmation of what she already thought.

Yet, looking into those grey eyes, seeing that face that had issued her command after command, Lena found herself wondering if she was here in the present, or back ten years ago.

She didn’t remember what she did between seeing his face for the first time in years and ending up in her room. Given the jar of peanut butter on her desk, she assumed she ran into Winston and frisked some. He’d probably call her later; he could always tell when she was losing time. He always said she disconnected when she talked. Lena still had not idea what he meant by that.

Lena reached for the jar of peanut butter, and threw it up in the air. Throwing it up and down gave her a sense of rhythm, and she counted the seconds between each toss. Three seconds. Four seconds. Two seconds. Three seconds.

She could call Genji, she thought, rolling the jar around in her hands. He knew of her problems from back during their recruit days. Lena could still remember the first time he dragged her to the rec room with Winson, Jesse and Angela, putting on a movie with the run time in the right hand corner of the screen. He’d do the same now if she asked, forcing a chunk of the base to sit down for an impromptu movie marathon. Lena could spend the next two hours smushed between Hana and Winston watching an old pulp movie. The presence of others always helped.

Everyone was so busy though. She’d hate to bother them. With an upcoming mission going on, Lena didn’t want to distract. Plus, she was supposed to be over this. She was supposed to be done with lost time, and forgetting her own name-

“Lena.” There was a knock on her door. Lena got up and opened it, taking in the face of Amélie. It’d been around six months since they’d freed her of Talon influence, four since Amélie decided to join Overwatch proper. She was a common presence outside Lena’s room. Lena would call her a friend.

(Lena also called her more than that. But that was something for her and Amélie to know. Everyone else on the base could wait until Amélie was ready).

“Winston said you weren’t feeling well,” Amélie said. She took in Lena’s face and frowned. “I didn’t believe him, but looking at you, I think he may be right. You look horrific, chérie.” 

“I kinda feel horrific to be honest,” Lena said, leaning against the doorframe. Amélie stared at her for a long moment. 

“Is this an issue with-” she gestured to Lena’s accelerator. Lena shook her head.

“No. Well not exactly. Just hard to place myself in everything today. It’ll pass.” That didn’t get rid of Amélie’s frown. She looked kinda cute when she was worried, Lena thought. Which, if she was feeling better, would tell her that she had it bad. “I’ll be fine, luv, I just have to wait it out-”

“Have you ever seen The Artist?”

“What?”

“It’s an old movie. There’s a lot of dancing. It’s one of my favorites.” Amélie tilts her head. “Would you like to watch it with me.”

Lena was silent for a moment. 

“Will you stay?”

Amélie chuckled softly and held out her hand. “Of course, chérie.”

Amélie’s smile was infectious. Wide and free, it was so different than the smile of Widowmaker, the cruel edge gone. Whenever Lena saw it, she wanted to kiss it, if only to see it on her face more.

Maybe she’ll have the opportunity during the movie. 


End file.
